Book of Old Ballads | Page 8

his shirt, which was all over durt,?They did give him clean holland, this was no great hurt:?On a bed of soft down, like a lord of renown,?They did lay him to sleep the drink out of his crown.?In the morning when day, then admiring he lay,?For to see the rich chamber both gaudy and gay.
Now he lay something late, in his rich bed of state,?Till at last knights and squires they on him did wait;?And the chamberling bare, then did likewise declare,?He desired to know what apparel he'd ware:?The poor tinker amaz'd on the gentleman gaz'd,?And admired how he to this honour was rais'd.
Tho' he seem'd something mute, yet he chose a rich suit,?Which he straitways put on without longer dispute;?With a star on his side, which the tinker offt ey'd,?And it seem'd for to swell him "no" little with pride;?For he said to himself, Where is Joan my sweet wife??Sure she never did see me so fine in her life.
From a convenient place, the right duke his good grace?Did observe his behaviour in every case.?To a garden of state, on the tinker they wait,?Trumpets sounding before him: thought he, this is great:?Where an hour or two, pleasant walks he did view,?With commanders and squires in scarlet and blew.
A fine dinner was drest, both for him and his guests,?He was plac'd at the table above all the rest,?In a rich chair "or bed," lin'd with fine crimson red,?With a rich golden canopy over his head:?As he sat at his meat, the musick play'd sweet,?With the choicest of singing his joys to compleat.
While the tinker did dine, he had plenty of wine,?Rich canary with sherry and tent superfine.?Like a right honest soul, faith, he took off his bowl,?Till at last he began for to tumble and roul?From his chair to the floor, where he sleeping did snore, Being seven times drunker than ever before.
Then the duke did ordain, they should strip him amain,?And restore him his old leather garments again:?'T was a point next the worst, yet perform it they must,?And they carry'd him strait, where they found him at first; There he slept all the night, as indeed well he might;?But when he did waken, his joys took their flight.
For his glory "to him" so pleasant did seem,?That he thought it to be but a meer golden dream;?Till at length he was brought to the duke, where he sought For a pardon, as fearing he had set him at nought;?But his highness he said, Thou 'rt a jolly bold blade,?Such a frolick before I think never was plaid.
Then his highness bespoke him a new suit and cloak,?Which he gave for the sake of this frolicksome joak;?Nay, and five-hundred pound, with ten acres of ground,?Thou shalt never, said he, range the counteries round,?Crying old brass to mend, for I'll be thy good friend,?Nay, and Joan thy sweet wife shall my duchess attend.
Then the tinker reply'd, What! must Joan my sweet bride?Be a lady in chariots of pleasure to ride??Must we have gold and land ev'ry day at command??Then I shall be a squire I well understand:?Well I thank your good grace, and your love I embrace,?I was never before in so happy a case.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
THE KNIGHT & SHEPHERD'S DAUGHTER
There was a shepherd's daughter?Came tripping on the waye;?And there by chance a knighte shee mett,?Which caused her to staye.
Good morrowe to you, beauteous maide,?These words pronounced hee:?O I shall dye this daye, he sayd,?If Ive not my wille of thee.
The Lord forbid, the maide replyde,?That you shold waxe so wode!?"But for all that shee could do or saye,?He wold not be withstood."
Sith you have had your wille of mee,?And put me to open shame,?Now, if you are a courteous knighte,?Tell me what is your name?
Some do call mee Jacke, sweet heart,?And some do call mee Jille;?But when I come to the kings faire courte?They call me Wilfulle Wille.
He sett his foot into the stirrup,?And awaye then he did ride;?She tuckt her girdle about her middle,?And ranne close by his side.
But when she came to the brode water,?She sett her brest and swamme;?And when she was got out againe,?She tooke to her heels and ranne.
He never was the courteous knighte,?To saye, faire maide, will ye ride??"And she was ever too loving a maide?To saye, sir knighte abide."
When she came to the kings faire courte,?She knocked at the ring;?So readye was the king himself?To let this faire maide in.
Now Christ you save, my gracious liege,?Now Christ you save and see,?You have a knighte within your courte,?This daye hath robbed mee.
What hath he robbed thee of, sweet heart??Of purple or of pall??Or hath he took thy gaye gold ring?From off thy finger small?
He hath not robbed mee, my liege,?Of purple nor of pall:?But he hath gotten my maiden head,?Which grieves mee worst of all.
Now if he